The Discovery
by Aeilde Light
Summary: a young Fred and George nick some items from Filch's office, including a ratty old parchment. this is a one shot story.


Filch glared across his desk at the two first years as he wrote a quick note to the Deputy Head Mistress, Professor McGonagall. The Weasley Twins had always been up to no good, but this time they had just gone far enough to finally get the detention he believed they deserved from day one (when the pair had accidentally smashed open a jar of frog eggs on the floor, and Filch had had to clean it up). Fred calmly twiddled his thumbs looking around the room, his eyes pausing on the old rusted shackles still attached to the wall, and then on the large file cabinet resting behind Filch's desk. George just stared right back at Filch with a pleasant smile on his face, which only made Filch frown further.

"There," he lifted his quill from the paper with a flourish. "Now you two are mine next Saturday at 7 o'clock. And I promise it will be the most menial, repetitive, repulsive job I have." Filch gave the twins a gleeful, but crooked smile.

"Oh! Oh! Can we muck out the Owlrey? I wanna muck out the Owlrey!" George bounced in his seat excitedly.

"No! Let's do all the Slytherin Bathrooms! I hear they're the nastiest!" Fred looked to his twin with wide eyes and a smile.

"Can we scrub Snape's Potions room? There must be at least twenty years' worth of buildup of sludge and grime in there!" George asked Filch pleadingly.

"Yes! That! Let's do that! Please?" Fred clasped his hands together and stuck his lower lip out as far as it would go, pouting at Filch. Filch just looked from one boy to the other, dumbfounded, his mouth agape and his brow furrowed. He no longer felt very in control of the situation and wasn't sure how regain the upper hand. At that moment Professor Flitwick entered the office.

"Argus, thank goodness. One of my students accidentally blew a giant snot bubble and popped it inside the classroom, could you come help me clean it up?" Flitwick asked. Filch grimaced, obviously not having a good day (not that he ever had a good day), and nodded reluctantly to the professor.

"You two, out. I'll see you here Saturday at 7." Filch stood and glared at the twins as they took their time standing up and stretching out and yawning before gathering their things and leaving the dank office. The two of them watched Filch follow Flitwick out and then lock his office behind him.

"You think he'll give us an easier detention after that performance?" Fred asked his twin.

"One can only hope. I don't think he's quite as sharp as Mum. He may be dull enough to believe we actually like awful grungy work, and if not… well, it's no loss really since he said he was going to give us the worst work he could think of. Now that we've given him ideas, he prolly won't think of any others." George replied as they made their way down the hall.

"Yeah, I don't think he has much of an imagination," Fred grinned. "George, I don't suppose you saw that giant filing cabinet behind Filch's desk?"

"The rusted black and silver monstrosity?"

"That's the one." Fred tapped his nose and winked. "Did you happen to see what was written on it?"

"I was too busy staring at the wart on Filch's Chin. That thing is gross." George made a face and stuck his tongue out. Fred laughed.

"George, it said 'Confidential and Confiscated Objects.' Now what do you suppose ol' Filch might keep in there?" Fred raised an eyebrow and gave a small smile.

"Everything we might find interesting Fred." George clapped his brother on the shoulder. "We need a plan."

Fred leaned against the wall by Filch's office, trying to make himself less conspicuous behind a pillar. He waited, trying to stay patient as the minutes seemed to drag by. Suddenly a crash resounded above his head. He cringed at the deafening noise, but smiled to himself. George must've found a suit of armor nearby and used that. The door the Filch's office flew open and Filch himself raced off to the nearest stairs, his eyes wide and mouth scowling; Mrs. Norris streaked after him. Fred rushed in the office, heading straight for the cabinet, hoping silently that George was able to make a clean getaway. He wriggled his fingers excitedly and then pulled on the handle to open a drawer. The drawer wouldn't budge. Fred frowned and pulled again, harder this time; still nothing. He began to sweat as he looked at the cabinet, noticing for the first time the lock. He cursed to himself and started searching Filch's desk for a key. He heard a clatter above his head; Filch had reached the fallen armor. Fred looked more frantically but found nothing. No key, no lock pick, no way to unlock the file cabinet. Filch would be heading back soon, if not already. Fred panicked and pulled out his wand, trying to think of a spell to help him find the key.

Or…unlock the cabinet. Fred stared at his wand stupidly for a second, then pointed it at the cabinet.

"Alohamora?" he asked quietly and the drawer popped open. Fred sighed with relief, deciding not to tell he brother he had wasted precious time looking for a key when he could've just used magic from the start (at least not for a while, but later, when it would be funny, he would have to of course). Fred rifled through the drawer, trying to find something worthy. He bypassed a few fanged Frisbees and commercial love potions, starting to feel the pressure again. Filch would be back any moment…

Fred closed his eyes and reached in the cabinet with both hands, grabbed a few things and shut the drawer. He opened his eyes and bounded out the door glancing back only once to see if the room looked more or less untouched.

"Good enough!" he whispered to himself and then ran down the hall and around a corner.

Filch returned to his office disgruntled to find he had left his door open.

"He bolted out so quickly he didn't have time to even think about locking his office! Nicely done George!"

"Thank you, thank you." George took a little bow as Fred grinned. "Now let's take a look at our spoils!"

Fred spilled the contents of his arms onto his bed and spread them out. He had grabbed an old, long broken Screaming Yo-yo, an Ever-Bashing Boomerang, one of the long expired love potions, a particularly nasty looking pouch with dark brown stains on it where the draw strings closed, and an old beat up folded piece of parchment.

"I gotta say Fred…I was expecting some better stuff." George frowned, picking up the old love potion and looking at it. "I mean I guess we could use the Boomerang, but I don't like the look of that pouch…"

"Yeah…" Fred sighed. "It looks like blood doesn't it? And I would imagine that Potion is a few years old. They're supposed to only get stronger with age…so we could make someone fall absolutely in love with us, but they'd prolly die in an hour or two from spoiled potion anyway. The whole drawer was full of junk." Fred picked up the Screaming Yo-yo tentatively and gave it a spin. It squealed for a second then guttered out, not even rolling back up like a regular yo-yo.

"Why do you think he confiscated this parchment?" George picked up the ratty paper and unfolded it. He was surprised how elaborately it had been folded up, and when completely open, that paper was rather large; he had to hold his arms out almost as far as they would go.

"I dunno," Fred dropped the yo-yo on the floor and came over to look at the paper with George. "You think it has invisible ink on it?"

"Dunno. Reveal ink." George prodded at the map with his wand as he spoke. Ink seemed to blossom from his wand tip forming the words.

"Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs"

"Mr. Moony wonders why the ickle gingers have deigned to awaken him from his nap."

"Mr. Padfoot is shocked such young children would ask him to "reveal" himself, and is disappointed in today's youth."

"Mr. Prongs would like to offer a congratulatory nod to the mini-conspirators but advises that they forget about all this and just go ask their mum for a cookie."

"Mr. Wormtail agrees on all accounts and suggests that they also get checked out for Spattergroit as they look dreadful."

Fred and George read each statement, their mouths opening in pleasant shock and surprise. Each Mr. seemed to have his own writing style and turn of phrase. The ink stayed for a moment then faded away.

"I don't know what this is, but it's bloody brilliant!" Fred grinned at George. "It's like an insult paper that knows who and what you are!"

"It was prolly made by some students like us who were just smart enough to get up to no good." George grinned back at his brother, his wand still touching the paper.

"Look!" Fred pointed at the paper, his eyes wide.

"Close, but not close enough!" Mr. Prongs teased.

"You'll have to try way harder than that if you want to get 'up to no good.'" Mr. Moony concurred.

"Yeah, don't you want to be REAL trouble makers? Not just two bit tricks?" Mr. Padfoot goaded.

"You'll never figure it out. Don't bother," said Mr. Wormtail.

"…what just happened? Was it something I said?" George looked to Fred, his wand still touching the parchment.

"No. it's the way you smell. Git." Padfoot promptly replied on the paper.

"I guess it has a secret to it…and something you said triggered them to tell you about it." Fred looked down at the paper. "Keep your wand on it. Let's try a few phrases."

"Ok! Uh…show us the secret?" George tried.

"What do you think we are? A completely stupid group of duffers? You'd think the fact we're on enchanted paper might at least give us SOME right to respect." Prongs chided the twins.

"Mate, even I could've told you that was stupid." Fred said.

"Try again?" offered Moony.

"Help some fellow trouble makers?" George asked.

"What is it you think we're trying to do here? It's not our fault you're thicker than a brick." Stated Padfoot.

"Hey, what was it that one Moon said? He had something in quotes earlier, I think it was 'up to trouble'?" Fred said.

"No, it was 'up to no good,' right Mr. Moon?" George questioned as he watched new ink pop up.

"It's Moon-y, with a y, thank you. And yes. That is what I said." Moony seemed almost annoyed .

"Well we are most certainly the kind of lads who are up to no good," replied George looking at Fred who just shrugged.

"Getting warmer," said Prongs.

"How devoted are you to being 'up to no good'?" Padfoot prodded.

"Would you promise?" asked Wormtail.

"I promise we're up to no good." Fred stated, touching his wand to the paper next to George's.

"Oh, so close!" Prongs encouraged.

"Not good enough!" Barked Padfoot.

"Make an oath." Suggested Moony.

"Isn't that what I just did?" asked Fred. He was starting to feel a little frustrated, but not as frustrated as his brother.

"What do you want from us? We solemnly swear we're up to no good!" George shouted. Suddenly all four of the Messrs. wrote at once.

"Correct," wrote Wormtail.

"Well done!" exclaimed Padfoot.

"We knew you could." said Moony.

"Welcome…" said Prongs, then the words faded and the ink blossomed anew.

"Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs  
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers  
are proud to present  
THE MARAUDER'S MAP"

Fred and George watched, astonished as the ink spread across the parchment forming a detailed map of the castle.

"Oh wow… Fred, just think of what we can do with a full map of the castle! Look! There's even secret passages!" George pointed gleefully at a pathway hidden behind a statue that led off the map.

"That's not all George!" Fred pointed at a dot on the map that was moving and looked to his brother with shock on his face.

"Is that…" George leaned in and looked closer. The dot was labeled "Marcus Flint" and it seemed to be pacing a corridor back and forth. George looked over the whole map, finding more of the dots, each one with a small name beneath it. "Does this map track people's movements? Does it actually show us where everyone in the castle is?" George breathed. This was too good to be true. Fred quickly found themselves on the map in the Gryffindor dorm.

"Go down to the common room and come back! I'll watch the map!" Fred said excitedly. George jumped up like lightning had struck him and raced down to the common room. A few other students looked up at him, puzzled by his flushed face as he stood there dumbly.

"George? You alright? You aren't getting into trouble are you?" Percy stood and cautiously approached his younger brother with a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry Perce, gotta run!" George rushed back up the stairs and burst into the dorm room.

"IT WORKED! IT WORKED!" Fred jumped up and embraced George and the two of them cheered happily. Everything else they had nicked from Filch's office lay on Fred's bed, forgotten, as the twins celebrated.

"How do you think the map goes blank again?" George asked Fred, his face in pain from smiling so much, but still unable to stop.

"I dunno," Fred wiped a joyful tear away from his eye. "But I bet we can figure it out!" he grinned at his brother and the two set down to their task.


End file.
